Things That Turn Maura Isles On
by aolurker
Summary: A little series (hopefully but for now just one) of little short stories of things that turn Maura Isles on...and what she does about it. CHAPTER 4 (Kickboxing Class) is up as of 8/8/13!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Things That Turn Maura Isles On  
**Chapter:** 1. Those Smoldering Eyes  
**Fandom:** Rizzoli and Isles, Jane/Maura  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Notes:** Yes, I'm *hoping* this will become a little series of little shorts (2-4 pages I'm thinking) of things that turn Maura Isles on. You know, little p0rnlets (or kicklets, maybe a flufflet even). :D We shall see how successful I am at actually writing new ones and at what pace. In any case, here's one at least.

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**Chapter 1: Those Smoldering Eyes**

Sitting in her favorite chair in the living room, legs tucked up under her, lamp turned on beside her, glass of wine nearby, Maura Isles had been trying to read one of her medical journals, specifically, a fairly comprehensive article about the current state and possible future of using imaging devices to conduct autopsyless autopsies.

But as fascinating as that was (and, really, it was *quite* fascinating), it was proving impossible to concentrate on. Impossible, at least, since the moment she saw Jane out of the corner of her eye.

Maura had expected to see the detective sitting over on the couch playing something on her iPad. That's what the detective had been doing the last time Maura had glanced over at her. But not this time. Not now.

Now the detective wasn't looking at her iPad, but was looking at her. Watching her. Watching Maura.

Intently.

Maura had only gotten a fleeting glance but she could see that Jane's lids were slightly narrowed, her eyes were dilated making them look entirely black, and the doctor could see the desire written in them and written on the small smirk that just barely tugged at the edge of the dark haired woman's lips.

Maura tried to ignore her favorite detective at first. She took a sip of wine, swallowing it carefully before pointedly going back to reading her article.

Jane would not be deterred. She simply continued to stare. And smirk.

Her gaze was most definitely purposeful. It was meant to have an effect.

And despite Maura's attempts at dismissing it, it *was* having an effect.

Especially when Maura allowed herself another surreptitious glance over to the couch to find that Jane was still starting. But not at Maura's face. No. At her chest. Her breasts. Jane licked her lips.

If the doctor's nipples hadn't already been rock hard they would've have tightened into points right then.

Maura quickly cast her eyes back to her article. Determined, *determined*, not to let Jane get the better of her. But it was no use. She recognized the physiological changes within her, the elevated breathing, the elevated levels of oxytocin, the hyper-awareness of her own body. And she knew it was no use. She could never resist how Jane looked at her. Never.

Because how Jane looked at her… it was… well it was a series of looks and expressions and emotions that Maura knew were *just for her*. No one else got those looks. The micro-expressions that can't be faked, the involuntary pupil reactions, and that extra something that Maura had yet be able to explain scientifically: the way Jane saw her. The first person to ever *really* see her. And know her. It was a depth and an intensity.

And it was that ability to see, that depth, and that intensity in those smoldering eyes of Jane's that was capable of empting the doctor's mind, filling her heart, and setting her body on fire.

Which was exactly what it was doing right now.

So, yeah, it was no use. She'd held out as long as she could. Thirty, maybe even 40 minutes.

But with her body feeling flush and warm, with her heart beginning to beat harder, and with other parts of her body also starting to pulse, she could hold out no longer.

Maura raised her head and her gaze and caught Jane's eyes with her own. The two women stared at each other silently. Then, still without speaking, Maura closed her magazine and tossed it aside. She pushed herself up from the chair, uncurling her legs, feet landing on the floor, and stood. She then wordlessly put her hands to her waist, hooking her thumbs into the elastic band of her light sweatpants and pushing the fabric down past her hips, shimmying out of both the pants as well as the scrap of fabric she called underwear.

Never once breaking eye contact with Jane.

Now, nude from the waist down, with first one step and then another, she stepped out of the pool of clothing at her feet and still silent, sauntered the two or three more steps across the living room to the sofa. The sofa where Jane was waiting. And watching. Still watching.

When she arrived at her destination Maura didn't hesitate. She immediately climbed onto the sofa, and on to Jane, straddling the detective's hips, sitting in the detective's lap, one hand on each of the detective's shoulders.

Jane had to admit that she was a little surprised by her girlfriend's boldness, but not displeased, and she recovered quickly, one of her scared hands landing on the bare skin of Maura's thigh, the other reaching up to tuck a bit of hair behind Maura's ear. "Well, hello," the detective's voice held a trace of humor along with the pure sex it so frequently contained.

But Maura wasn't in the talking mood, she ground her hips and body against Jane's, making it even more abundantly clear what she'd come for, laying small kisses to the side of Jane's face and neck and jaw. "No more teasing…" she breathed her plea, her request into Jane's ear.

Jane, of course, knew exactly what Maura was talking about and exactly what Maura was asking. But, again of course, she played dumb. "Teasing?" the detective murmured as if incredulous, though her voice still dripped with promise, and her fingers stroked lightly through Maura's hair, "How could I have been teasing you?" Jane pulled her head back and once again caught Maura's eyes, looking into them as she finished, "I haven't even touched you."

At Jane's words, Maura grabbed the sides of Jane's face. "That," the doctor responded as she broke eye contact, closing her eyes and leaning in to kiss the detective fully on the lips, quickly, but passionately, "is exactly," Maura kissed the detective once again, "the problem!" she concluded.

Jane couldn't help but chuckle low in her throat, but also had to bite her lip against the sensation of a half-naked Maura undulating on top of her, pushing her hips down again and swiveling them, and of the doctor's breasts pushing against Jane's body as the doctor went in for another kiss, one full of lips and tongue and wine and want, and one accompanied by a small plaintive sigh of pleasure when the doctor felt Jane's tongue enter her mouth and felt Jane's hand lower such that both finally landed firmly on the doctor's hips, her thighs, her quads, skimming upward…

Yes, yes, so close, right there, so close. "Please, Jane," Maura rasped out, breaking the kiss but not pulling back, placing her forehead against the brunette's, "Please," she rasped out again.

Again, Jane knew exactly what Maura was asking for, but she loved, probably too much, hearing Maura say it. She traced her fingers back down and back away, along warm skin, the outside of Maura's legs, up and down and further inside, tickling, taunting, and yes, very much teasing, practically feeling the nerve endings come alive under her touch, "Please what, Maur?" she rasped back.

Maura made a sound that could only be described as a low growl as she continued to move her body and her hips in a desperate attempt to get Jane's fingers where she really wanted them.

But Jane's fingers continued to evade. Coming closing, so close, almost grazing sensitive pink flesh, then flitting away. "Please what, Maur?" the detective's voice, her question enveloped the doctor.

And like moments before, there was no resisting it. She gave Jane what Jane wanted so that Jane would give her what she wanted. "Please do to me what your eyes have been doing to me for the last half an hour," she answered on a desperate breathy whisper.

Jane's lips curled in a small sign of victory, "You mean this?" the detective's asked with own brand of growl as she quickly positioned her hand and then slid two fingers fully into Maura without further delay or warning.

Maura, never one to hold back, let out a loud almost crying gasp, pushing up on her knees, arching her back, dropping her head back and dropping her hands again to Jane's shoulders, all energy and brain power drawn to the fulfillment of her request; the filling of her body and the processing of the resulting sensations emanating from between her legs, the intrusion, the penetration, that longed-for penetration, deep and thick, of Jane's callused but so long and so very talented fingers.

And another gasp escaped her as those fingers pulled out and pushed in again, and pushed in again and again, the detective dragging the rough pads along the front wall of Maura's passage, hitting all the spots she knew to be in there, massaging hot flesh that was already slick, so slick, with Maura's essence, exciting it further, making it even wetter, making it even hotter.

Making Maura hotter.

"Jane," Maura breathed as she tried to find and match Jane's rhythm, rotating and pulsing her hips and inner muscles with the detective's movements, but unable to establish a smooth counter to Jane, the doctor's body involuntarily twitching and jumping as Jane would push in deep enough to hit Maura's cervix or accurately enough to find that spongy flesh at Maura's very core, that flesh that set the doctor aflame, "Yes!" she cried out as her body pulsed and spasmed with each movement of Jane within her.

Jane, for her part, just held on, one arm buried between their bodies, one wrapped around Maura's ass, and her face buried in Maura's chest, listening to the doctor's verbal reactions, feeling the doctor's physical reactions, responding to them, giving, and pleasuring, and loving this body on top of her as much as she loved the woman who inhabited it.

And it wasn't long before those reactions, Maura's movements, the sounds she was making, were less and less coordinated, and more and more desperate, more and more needful.

Fluids running down her fingers and hand, Jane pushed in again, rubbing, dragging, scissoring, thrusting, twisting her wrist, thrusting in again, penetrating, filling, attuned, so attuned to the signs, the quivering of Maura's muscles, the hitching of her breath, the gripping of her hands, the small plea in her voice, "Jane…Jane…"

All signs the detective understood, and understood well.

Wrapping her arm just a little tighter around Maura's waist, she thrust into Maura's body one more time while also pushing her thumb up and over Maura's clit.

The doctor's body jerked.

"I've got you baby," Jane rasped out as she held on tight and ran her thumb over and over Maura's tip, "I've got you," she repeated and she pulled her fingers out one more time only to push in one more time and again pass her thumb up and over that oh so sensitive tip, back and forth and back and forth, circling, massaging…

Peaking…

This time the doctor's body went rigid. Just for a moment. Just a moment.

Then she was thrashing, feet kicking the couch cushions below her, back arching, hair cascading, fingers digging into Jane's shoulder, as the pleasure washed over and through her.

God, how her body responded to Jane's fingers, to Jane's ministrations, to Jane.

The pleasure!

Waves of it as Jane's thumb continued to move, continued to circle, as the detective's voice continued to assure, Maura's passage clamping down, gripping Jane's fingers, gripping so hard.

And then releasing.

Maura's body collapsed into Jane's.

Spent. Breathing heavy. Twitching slightly when Jane extracted her hand in order to wrap both arms around the doctor's body.

God that was good.

That was so fucking good.

Of course, it was always good with Jane.

After allowing herself to catch her breath and allowing for the haze to lift from her brain, Maura finally lifted her head and lifted her gaze once again to that of her lover's. And in that gaze she saw desire, yes, and that seeing and that depth and that intensity…

But in that gaze she also saw affection. And love.

And she knew. She knew that's why it was always so good with Jane.


	2. Chapter 2: Blindfolds, Reason 1

**Title:** Things That Turn Maura Isles On  
**Chapter:** 2. Blindfolds, reason 1  
**Fandom:** Rizzoli and Isles, Jane/Maura  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Notes:** Another little p0rnlets (though this one is far far longer than originally intended (how does that keep happening despite my best intentions?) and this one has a tiny little bit of kink (see Chapter title) with reference to more). Speaking of the chapter title, yes, this might just be the first of several reasons why blindfolds turn Maura Isles on, we shall see.  
**Notes 2:** The muse loves feedback! (and suggestions if you want...)

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**Chapter 2: Blindfolds, Reason 1**

She was hesitant at first. Certainly not because she didn't trust Jane. Because she absolutely did. And not because she didn't like trying new things. Because she liked that, too. It was mainly because she liked watching. She liked being able to watch and being able to see Jane as they made love. As Jane made love to her.

But Jane's argument that removal of that visual input would only enhance the input of all her other senses was compelling. Maura was willing to give it at least one try.

And, well, one try was all that was needed.

It's not that they used it every time after that. No, not at all by a long shot. For Maura still loved being able to watch and see the things Jane was going to do and was doing to her. And loved being able to see Jane's reactions when she returned the favor.

And maybe it was because of that relative infrequency of its use that seeing a dark mask or scarf draped over her hand towel in the bathroom or laying on her pillow or casually hung on the bedroom door knob – all signs that Jane intended for Maura to wear it that night – made the doctor's heart beat just that little bit harder and her core pulse with that extra little bit of excitement and anticipation.

Now, Maura never knew exactly what Jane had in mind when she donned the blindfold, but she didn't mind. Because, whatever it was, she was never disappointed.

Especially tonight. For tonight Jane was playing one of Maura's favorite games. Jane called it The Guessing Game. But Maura disputed that it involved guessing. No, it involved deduction based on limited sensory information. So in Maura's mind, she thought of it as The Tactile Input Identification Game.

The rules were simple. With Maura blindfolded, Jane would touch the doctor with an object. She'd roll it or drag it or press it or scrape it or just tickle it across Maura's body. Any part of her body. Her abs, her thighs, her knees, the bottoms of her feet, her sides, her neck, her face, her lips, her breasts. Her nipples. Her core.

Maura never knew where it would touch her until it happened.

And she didn't know what object Jane would touch her with. That was the point: for Maura to identify it. Identify it by the feeling of it alone. Vision couldn't help her, the extra sensitive nerves of her fingertips couldn't help her. Sometimes she'd be able to smell it. Or hear it. Or taste it. Depending on what it was. But, mostly she'd just feel it. And she'd have to take that tactile sensory input from wherever it came and on whatever tract of flesh it came on and she'd have to determine what the object causing that input was. And it could be anything, anything at all. A knitting needle, an ice cube, whipped cream, a cork from a wine bottle, the TV remote.

Anything was fair game.

And though it might be fair, it certainly wasn't always easy! In fact, there were times when it was downright difficult. But that was the challenge. That was the fun. That was a big part of the turn on.

The other part of the turn on was that if she was able to correctly identify it, she was… rewarded.

Of course, on the other hand, if she didn't correctly identify it, she was… not.

Tonight's first object, well tonight's first object was easy for Maura to identify. It wasn't new. In fact, it was the first object Jane had ever used the first time they had played this game. Maura had been nervous; but this object had put those nerves at ease immediately and transformed the anxious energy into a different kind of energy all together.

Yes, this object was one of Maura's favorites. It was a fur glove.

Maura loved how luxurious it felt gliding over her skin. She loved how luxurious it made *her* feel. She especially loved when Jane skimmed it over her sides and stomach and over her breasts. Even more so when her sides and breasts were exposed like they were tonight – with her arms stretched above her head on the bed, wrists bound together and bound to the headboard like Jane sometimes did to them when they played this game (okay, let's be honest, like Jane almost *always* did to her wrists when they played this game).

But oh how she loved it! Skin taut over her expanding and contracting ribs, back slightly arched, offering up her full and heavy and sensitive mounds, peaks tight and sensitive, feeling those so very soft, plush hairs tickling and exciting and awakening and arousing and comforting all at the same time as Jane's fur covered hand floated across and caressed her upper body. Over and around and down one side and up the other, slow circles on just her stomach, then around and around each breast, raising goosebumps as the touch lightened while tracing up and down along her sides, causing shivers of excitement as it glided firmly over each nipple.

God, yes.

Jane knew just how she loved to be touched with that glove, knew just *where* to touch her and knew just *how* to touch her.

And tonight Jane seemed to be particularly content to silently indulge the doctor with that touch.

So with no visual input to distract and really no auditory input to speak of as well, Maura's brain had nothing to focus on, nothing to focus on at all except that singular tactile input of that glove as it skimmed and touched all those places that so loved to be skimmed and touched.

Ugh.

Maura had lost track of time but she was starting to move atop the bed, to writhe a bit, to arc, to pull at her binds, to alternately squeeze her legs together against a rising ache and spread them apart in hope for contact. She could feel her nipples tightening more, becoming ever more sensitive to the fleeting touches Jane was giving them, and she knew the sounds coming out of her mouth were plaintive and needful. But she resisted begging. Resisted as much as she could, at least, as Jane continued to tease her for minutes and minutes and more tortuous and glorious minutes on end.

Finally Maura heard a murmur from her lover, "You really do like this, don't you?"

Maura bit her bottom lip but that couldn't keep the smile from touching the visible part of her face below the blindfold. She nodded. There was no point in denying it.

Jane chuckled. In many ways, that low throaty chuckle turned Maura's knees to jelly just as effectively as the fur glove. The doctor squeezed her legs together quickly and briefly before relaxing them again.

But Jane noticed. And chuckled low again. "I think it's time to try something else, though…"

Those words and the feather touch of the glove disappearing from her skin were Maura's first warning.

The quiet but distinctive hum was her second.

The doctor had just enough time to start smiling again before the small oblong source of that hum was placed on the inside of one of her knees; at which time her smile faded as a small moan escaped her mouth.

Jane smiled to herself at the sound. And smiled even more broadly when her oh-so-compliant and anxious lover moved her legs marginally further apart without even having to be asked.

In response, Jane did not disappoint. The detective moved the small but powerful bullet, vibrating at about half strength, up the inside of Maura's thigh. Two inches at first, then another two, rolling it back and forth along responsive flesh, before returning it back down to the doctor's knee, and switching to Maura's other leg, now moving furtively with Jane's movement's.

To the soft sighs of pleasure and the small moans of frustration, Jane took her time again tracing the rounded end of the object up the inside of Maura's leg, higher this time, higher, Maura's pelvis tilting in invitation, the doctor using her body to indicate where she wanted it to go…

…but no, Jane backed away again, dragging the small object and it's enticing vibrations back down and away from Maura's core.

Off another small groan from Maura and a small shiver of dissatisfaction, Jane finally broke her silence. "So, any guesses?" she asked teasingly, knowing Maura knew exactly what the object was moving up and down and up and down and up and up, and up to just tickle moisture but fuck, not far enough up, before moving back down yet again along her leg.

"If I," Maura gasped as Jane momentarily increased the strength of vibrations before powering them down again, "If I get it right, will you please put it in me?" Maura somehow found the brain function to respond to Jane's inquiry, mostly out of pure need.

Jane just chuckled again, god she loved when Maura begged – and for Maura, that tone, that plea in her voice, that was begging. "Let me put it this way," the detective bantered, "if you guess wrong, I certainly won't."

Maura bit her lip again and pulled against her binds again and slammed her eyes shut behind her blindfold as she tried to maneuver her legs and hips to get more of those fleeting vibrations.

"Tell me, Maura," she heard Jane whisper.

Knowing she didn't really have much choice in the matter, Maura answered. "It's one of the bullets," she breathed back, forcing herself to concentrate very hard on the exact size of it and sound of it, wanting desperately to be right for a whole variety of reasons, "The blue one," she concluded.

Jane was impressed. She would have settled for "one of the bullets", but for Maura to have figured out which one… well, as stated, Jane was impressed, and she said as much, "Very, good, Dr. Isles. Very, very good." Jane finally moved the object all the way up, up to Maura's core, drawing a gasp from the doctor before pressing in and dragging it up and down Maura's now very hot and very wet folds, "The blue one it is," Jane's throaty voice rumbled quietly over Maura as she felt that bullet lightly graze her straining clit.

Ah fucking finally!

Maura's body jerked in reaction and she couldn't contain the small cry that escaped her mouth this time.

Every nerve ending was alive and attuned by this point, enticed to attention by the fur glove earlier, excited further by the promise and feel of the bullet along her inner thighs and then through her folds, nothing to distract her brain from the sensations, all of its focus, all of it on those sensations, just the sensations, the pure sensations, god!

"Jane!" Maura cried out again, "Yes, yes!" as the detective passed the vibrating toy over her tip again, taking the doctor to the edge of satisfaction before backing away, pulling the object back down, into and through and over Maura's slick folds, hearing the soft pants of both relief and distress from her lover, seeing and feeling the needy undulations of Maura's hips as the doctor reached for that elusive touch.

But Jane wasn't ready to give it to her. Not yet. So the detective just continued to tease Maura's pussy with the object, much like she had teased Maura's body with the glove, making sure it touched her everywhere, inserting it part way, pulling it back out, up and down and around, passing lightly over her clit one more time, and then again, driving Maura up again, drawing further soft pants and cries from her, only to have Jane move the object off and away, down again through her folds.

And as Maura was being backed away from that longed for peak for a second time, something metallic was placed on her stomach. Instinctively, she contracted her abs and gasped at how cold it felt against her heated flesh. However, that was the only reaction, the only attention to it she could spare, even as it scraped across her skin a second time, far too engrossed and distracted by the ever growing feelings caused by that wonderful blue bullet between her legs.

A bullet that was again inserted inside her, pushed deep insider her this time, along with Jane's fingers, a moan being pulled from Maura's chest because of it. And then she breathed out another moan as Jane's fingers slipped free of her and the bullet was also pulled mostly free by the cord attached to one end of it, only to be inserted into her heated passage once again, "God, Jane… Jane…"

Maura had expected an encouraging remark from Jane, or a comforting one, or an enticing one, egging Maura on perhaps, pushing her to even higher heights. But that's not at all what she got:

"Any guesses, baby?"

A small frown could be seen on the part of Maura's forehead that was visible, the only indication that she'd heard the question, the only hint of her confusion. For the rest of her body continued to move with Jane's fingers and with the wonderfully vibrating toy being pushed into her and pulled out of her.

Jane let Maura's lack of response slide for a few moments. But *only* for a few moments.

With one hand still working between Maura's legs, the other dragged the metallic object across Maura's stomach again, flipped it over and dragged it back. "Maura?" the detective intoned, "Any guesses what this is?"

Was Jane being serious?! Because, yes, Maura knew this was how the game was played; Jane touched her with something and she had to figure out what it was. But… but… but never before had Jane made it quite this challenging! Never before had Jane purposely made it this hard, purposely distracted her so much! I mean, did the detective actually expect her to concentrate on anything but the pulses and ache and burning need between her legs? Surely not!

Maura moaned and squirmed and tightened her inner muscles on Jane's intruding fingers.

But Jane was having none of that. "Maura, sweetie, you know the rules," she spoke firmly but also a bit teasingly. "If you need to concentrate, I can turn the bullet off and put it away, but if I do that, it's not coming back tonight…"

"No!" Maura at least knew how to respond to that statement. "No," she repeated on a gasp.

"That's what I thought," Jane rasped out again a bit teasingly as she pushed the toy deep into Maura and left it there, but turned the vibrations up a little stronger before she once again dragged the object in her other hand across Maura's now mildly quivering abs.

Maura clenched her jaw and again screwed her eyes closed behind the dark mask covering them. Concentrate. Concentrate. Mother phooey, she had to concentrate.

The doctor pressed the small part of her brain still somewhat functioning into service. The object on her stomach, the object… Whatever it was, it was metal. And… round. No, not round. Curved. Yes, curved. She thought. And thin? Or was it? Maura tried desperately to compartmentalize the overpowering flood of signals flowing into her brain from her now pulsing core and concentrate instead on the faint signals the nerve endings from the skin on her stomach were sending.

But it was a losing battle, really.

"It's…metal," that was about all Maura could muster, especially since Jane took delight in sending the bullet's vibrations to their maximum for several seconds before easing them back to a dull roar. "Jesus…" Maura gasped out.

Jane managed not to laugh out loud but she did smile to herself, "Yes, it is metal…are you sure I don't need to turn off the bullet?" she taunted.

Maura let out a soft whine. She tried, she really did try, to form a mental picture, an image in her mind of what this object must look like. But her brain just wasn't cooperating. Her ability to compartmentalize was severely compromised; analytical and spatial thinking was just not anything that stood a *chance* right now. But, GOD, she did NOT want Jane to stop! She whined again.

Finally Jane took pity (along with a not small measure of delight in having managed to completely unhinge and stymie the doctor). "I'll tell you what, hun, how about I give you a choice," Jane's voice held both promise and threat as the detective pulled the bullet completely clear of Maura's body but only to slide the fully lubricated and slick object up through Maura's folds and over the doctor's clit again, drawing another cry and a spasm from the doctor and another strong pull on her binds.

"Yes, yes please," was Maura's only gasping response, more than willing to make a deal, any deal at this point, legs spread, hips gyrating, looking for that elusive touch which would send her over the edge even while knowing it would be kept at bay expertly by Jane.

"Okay," Jane responded with another smile to herself because, god, this was going to be as much fun for the detective as it was for Maura, probably more so. "You have three options," the detective began reasonably. "One, I stop. Right here, right now. Stop. Completely."

Maura gasped again, this time at the mere thought of stopping, and she quickly shook her head. That was clearly not an acceptable option.

Jane smirked, having known Maura would reject that. "Alright," she then continued. "Two, I don't stop, but tomorrow you drink only instant coffee all day."

Maura's mouth fell open and a horrified almost-yelp fell from it. She didn't know how to even respond. Instant coffee?! But... but no! So not being able to bring herself to accept or reject that option out of hand, she fished for the third and final one, "And… and number three?" she asked on another moan as Jane reinserted the bullet deep within her, making her entire core buzz, making her feel light headed, bring her that much closer to the inevitable peak, and, Jane knew, making her that much more susceptible to her choices.

Jane put aside the metal object she had been holding to Maura's stomach to take the bullet's remote control into it, slowly, almost unfairly, edging up the force of the vibrations, "Three," she husked, "I give you 10 swats with the paddle right before we leave for work tomorrow morning. And no changing underwear afterwards."

A low crying moaning groan issued from Maura's throat. God that sounded both utterly erotic and completely torturous and inappropriate. A spanking right before work? Holy hell, she'd feel that all day. And her underwear would be wet because of it. All day.

So… with instant coffee she'd be a bit under caffeinated but not distracted. With a spanking she'd be fully caffeinated and most definitely awake and aware, too awake and aware, not to mention completely off kilter and struggling to keep focused…

Ugh!

Jane was so evil!

Amazingly evil!

Deliciously evil.

And just plain delicious.

As such, in the end, there was really never any doubt in either of their minds which option Maura would choose.

And despite the flush that already colored her skin, Jane did not fail to notice the extra color that bloomed across Maura's chest nor the pink that tinged the doctor's ears.

Gotcha.

The detective smirked again. "A spanking it is."

"Janeeeee," Maura plaintively drew out the detective's name on another whine, but this time neither of them quite knew if she was whining about the 'punishment' she'd be getting for not being able to guess what Jane had been touching her with or about Jane's obvious glee over that punishment, or if she was actually just begging her lover to please just get on with giving her an orgasm already and she'd think about and deal with the punishment later!

Either way, Jane just chuckled again, "Very well." And with that Jane pulled the bullet once again from inside Maura and wasted no further time landing it directly on the doctor's clit, rubbing it back and forth and back and forth, intent on giving Maura what she'd been promising with her actions all night to give her.

And it didn't take long, not long at all. Maura's ass clenched as she pushed herself up into the sensations, her gut coiling, her body coiling, her mind blanking, reveling that that split-second universe of pure energy right at the razor's edge. And then she was flying over that edge, hips pulsing, arms pulling ineffectively but powerfully against their ties, gasping cries of pleasure unleashed from her mouth as fulfillment pulsed and radiated and washed over and through her body.

When the tidal wave began to recede, when the spasms that had gripped and shaken her entire being began to calm, and just as the sensations were becoming too much for her now overly sensitized clit, Jane backed off, lightening the pressure, lowering the force, easing her down, slowly, gently, and then finally shutting off the bullet entirely, leaving Maura spent and panting, a puddle of sated flesh.

As Maura lay there in her initial moments of recovery, Jane quickly hid the object she'd been teasing Maura with and which had eluded Maura's mental grasp, before reaching up and pushed the blindfold up and off the lighter haired woman's face, while at the same time leaning down and capturing her lips in a sensuous, loving kiss. A kiss Maura happily and gratefully melted and moaned into.

After just a few seconds, however, Jane pulled gently out of the kiss so she could reach up again, this time to undo the silk bindings that had been holding Maura's wrists. Having accomplished that, she leaned down for another quick but deep kiss before pulling back just enough to simply look into her best friend's, her girlfriend's, her lover's eyes. She cupped Maura's face in one hand. And she smiled a tender smile.

Maura simply let her eyes flutter shut and let herself just bask in Jane's gaze and attention. Finally, after several moments, she opened her eyes again and returned Jane's smile, both of them now basking in the attention of the other.

Finally Maura, still smiling, bit her lip.

Jane just raised an eyebrow in question.

Maura inhaled, "I don't suppose," she began with a slight cock of her own eyebrow, "You're going to tell me what the object was that I couldn't figure out."

Jane's smile transformed into something a little more smug, a little more sly. She gently moved a piece of hair that had gotten a little matted by the blindfold off of Maura's forehead, "Of course not," she responded lightly. "But," she continued even more smug and more sly, "you can be sure that it will keep earning you instant coffee or ten firm swats until you *can* figure it out."

Maura's eyes fluttered closed and another whiny sound came from her mouth.

But, both of them knew it wasn't really a whine. But of them knew she wasn't really complaining.

Because both of them knew those were the rules of the game.

And both of them knew the other couldn't wait to play it again.


	3. Chapter 3: Holding Hands (PG-13)

**Title:** Things That Turn Maura Isles On  
**Chapter:** 3. Holding Hands (PG-13)  
**Fandom:** Rizzoli and Isles, Jane/Maura  
**Rating:** This Chapter: PG-13 (other Chapters, M)  
**Notes:** Color me surprised; I was apparently feeling a little sappy today. Sugar alert! If you want Adult - see Ch1 or Ch2. If you want a short sappy / fluffy piece, this is your chapter.  
**Notes 2:** No, really, the muse loves feedback! (and suggestions if you want...)

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**Chapter 3: Holding Hands  
**

It was a simple gesture. And basic one. One that had been part of human culture for as long as human culture had existed.

Yet it was something that had somehow eluded Maura Isles for most of her life.

As a child there weren't any memories of holding mommy's hand when crossing the street. As a teen at an all girls' boarding school there was no walking down the hallway declaring your first love by holding your boyfriend's hand. As a young adult when she did start seeing people in public, those public displays were always formal, stilted: you could link arms with your date, but holding hands was somehow just not accepted. As a high profile professional, her life was both busy and not always her own; there was little time to find someone she wanted more than just physical release with and few people she trusted enough to be seen with in a non-official capacity.

So when she met and started becoming close with Jane Rizzoli, this fascinating and complex person she couldn't quite figure out, she was already a little thrown off. And when Jane would reach out and grab her hands without even thinking about it, without hesitation or fear, it was something Maura wasn't used to. But it was also something she instantly took to.

And something she instantly craved.

Craved not in a sexual way, for the feelings Maura experience in these moments weren't arousal, per se. They were feelings of overwhelming wellbeing. Of being cared for. Eventually, of being loved.

And, in so many ways, that was so much better than arousal.

For even when she'd spy Jane massaging her achy hands, hands which had been through so much, hands which bore so many scars and bad memories, she knew that the detective would put aside her own problems in a heartbeat and link those hands with Maura's, forgetting her own pain, forgetting her own demons, and instead focusing on Maura, giving the doctor strength , giving the doctor attention, giving the doctor everything she often didn't even know she needed:

When Maura needed comfort, Jane would take her hands. The detective would hold them, pass her thumb back and forth over them, instinctively knowing the strength and comfort that could be transmitted through that most basic of human connection, instinctively knowing that physical contact would be far more powerful than any words she or anyone could say. She'd hold them as long as Maura needed. Every time.

When Maura needed congratulations for a job well done, it was Jane who was always there not just to pat her on the back but to take her hand and give it a squeeze while smiling ear to ear. The thrill would travel up Maura's arm and across her chest, filling her with pride.

When Maura needed confidence, Jane would grab her hand, holding it tight, giving it a little shake, looking in her eyes and telling the doctor through both touch and words that the detective had faith in Maura and faith in Maura's ability to find the right answer. Maura would believe her, would draw from that surety.

And when they started dating, Jane's hand was even more frequently in hers. It was as if Jane knew how much the gesture meant.

Of course she knew.

They still had to be discreet. Their jobs and their rolls still demanded this. But they didn't have to hide entirely.

When at the Robber, out for a drink with Korsak or Frost or Frankie, or in a darkened theater, they'd sit next to each other. Jane would usually tangle her fingers with Maura's and rest them on Maura's thigh. There was nothing untoward about it. There was no need to call 'hand check!'. It was innocent. It was pure. It was a private statement that I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.

When going to a fancy benefit, Jane would drive them there, hand stretched across the front seat to hold Maura's hand as they'd chat. Jane's way of showing her true feelings, knowing she'd be spending the next three hours complaining about how she was dressed or what food was being served or the boring small talk she had to engage in.

When in their bedroom, their fingers often interlinked, hands gripping tight together as they peaked together or separately, and if not during then afterwards. Maura would find her hand brought up to Jane's lips, graced with a kiss as their bodies calmed.

And when on vacation, away from Boston, away from their jobs, away from anyone that knew them, Maura still sometimes would go to link arms with the detective. But Jane would smoothly reach down and take her hand. And she'd hold it as they walked down the beach or the boardwalk or a farmer's market or on their way to dinner.

Or just when they had to cross the street.


	4. Chapter 4: Kickboxing Class

**Title:** Things That Turn Maura Isles On  
**Chapter:** 4. Kickboxing Class  
**Fandom:** Rizzoli and Isles, Jane/Maura  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Notes:** Needed some unbridled passion to erase the beards from this week's episode. ;) Feedback always appreciated! And thank you to everyone who has left comments - it is, as I said, very very appreciated!

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**Kickboxing Class**

Maura had no idea it would be like this. Sure, she was mildly aroused watching Jane beat up the punching bag that hung in the detective's apartment, and sure, she probably took too much pleasure watching the detective get aggressive with suspects, but this…

This…

See, unlike everyone else in this beginner's class (which Jane had finally convinced Maura to sign up for), Jane was already fairly well versed in the art and use kickboxing. She was also long-time buddies with the instructor. And so, said instructor used the detective frequently throughout class for demonstrations… and at the end for a little light sparring…

And… and good god.

Because though the detective's body may not look like it's a lethal weapon, it would be unwise of anyone to underestimate her abilities. For there was unexpected power and strength, not to mention skill and determination in those arms and legs (and abs) of hers. So incredibly much power and strength and skill and determination.

…So watching Jane kick and elbow and jab her way through kickboxing class…

…Yeah. The class was far more… enjoyable… than Maura had expected it to be.

On the drive home, though, Jane could tell something was wrong. Maura was so quiet, answering with monosyllabic and noncommittal sounds, and she was just staring out the window, almost refusing to look at Jane.

Jane didn't know why. Was it because Maura felt like she hadn't done well in class? Did the doctor just not like kickboxing and didn't want to go to another class and was just trying to figure out how to tell Jane? Jane just didn't know. And try as she may she couldn't get answers from Maura. So by the time they got home, Jane was confused.

Of course, that confusion doubled, even tripled when, the moment the front door closed behind them, Maura pounced.

Pounced.

The shorter women was on Jane immediately, pinning the surprised detective to the door behind them, attacking the detective's lips as her hands went for the zipper on the light hoodie Jane was wearing, yanking it down, struggling to push the now open sweatshirt over and down and off Jane's shoulders as she pressed as much of body as she could against as much as Jane's body as it would cover.

"Mau…wha…oomph…Maur," Jane struggled to even be able to get Maura's name out much less ask what, exactly, was going on and what had all of a sudden possessed the doctor.

But even though Maura heard Jane's attempts and even felt Jane's light pushing on her shoulders, the doctor ignored it. Because all of Jane's questions could wait. Right now, right now Maura needed – NEEDED – Jane.

And she needed her now.

Now now.

So with a quick grab at Jane's waist, she maneuver them away from the door, pivoting them as one and then pushing Jane down the hall, almost tripping over Jane's now discarded hoodie but really not caring, grabbing at the detective's tank top and beginning to lift it up. "Take this off," was all she said.

"Maura?" Jane finally managed to croak out, though she continued to acquiesce to Maura's insistent press forward, stumbling her way backwards down the hallway.

"Take it off!" Maura again ignored Jane's questioning tone, determined and insistent with her desires before capturing Jane in a sloppy but passionate kiss while haphazardly bumping them up against the wall just outside the master bedroom.

Wow. Okay. Well then.

Jane had no idea, no idea at all, what was going on and her brain was still casting about for some explanation.

But her body had no such qualms.

No, her body didn't need an explanation. It knew exactly what was going on and it knew exactly how to react. She could feel herself flush and feel a rush of blood and moisture pool between her legs. She instinctively did as Maura asked, pulling the damp shirt over her head and throwing it onto the floor before grabbing Maura's face in her hands and returning the kiss with her own insistence.

"This, too," Maura breathed out as her hands when to Jane's breasts and hastily but clumsily tried to push the brunette's sports bra up and off this amazing body she so desperately, desperately wanted, had so desperately, desperately wanted since the first time Jane demonstrated a roundhouse two hours ago.

Again, Jane didn't need to be asked twice, with practiced ease the sports bra was lifted off her head and flung across the room just as she felt the backs of her knees bump up against the bed and just as she was on the verge of tumbling over onto that bed. But knowing her girlfriend as she did, one small part of Jane's brain sent up a red flag. "Still sweaty…" she gasp in between kisses as she pushed back slightly against the woman in front of her, "The bedspread…" was all she could get out to express her train of thought.

But even the idea of getting sweat all over the fancy duvet wasn't enough to deter Maura Isles from having Jane Rizzoli.

Not tonight. Not right now. Not by a long shot.

"I'll get it washed," the doctor rasped back while giving a final small nudge forward, toppling the lanky detective onto the bed behind her.

And then the doctor pounced. Again.

Maura climbed onto the bed next to the sprawling detective, latching her lips onto Jane's once again and latching a hand onto one of Jane's breasts, squeezing the flesh, gripping it, tweaking it, drawing a small moan from the woman below. God, she loved playing with Jane's breasts! Such femininity on such an otherwise butch body. And any other night she might have indulged herself and played with them longer.

But it wasn't Jane's breasts she wanted right now.

So with her lips still on Jane's, and with one last firm pinch to Jane's now hardened nipple, Maura's hand wandered lower, over abs quivering and fluttering, the doctor's fingers teasing briefly along the waistband of the detective's short spandex, before sneaking under that waistband to slide lower still.

Jane gasped when Maura's hand made contact.

For the contact wasn't entirely gentle.

Like much of Maura's actions since they had walked in the door minutes earlier, this touch was needy, in was possessed, and it was possessive.

And Jane wasn't complaining.

Maura was so rarely the aggressor.

The detective felt Maura's fingers slide roughly over the apex of her legs to the opening between them, dipping into almost as much heat and moisture as the doctor knew must be between her own legs.

Maura's lips left Jane's then but only to reattach themselves near Jane's collarbone as the doctor scooted her smaller form slightly downwards for a better angle. An angle she took advantage of, pulling two fingers together and pushing them into Jane as deep and as fully as the tight confines of Jane's shorts would allow.

Jane's mind still struggled with confusion even as her body arched and she gasped out at the intrusion and did so again when she felt those two fingers curl inside her and drag along the top wall of her sex. And then she arched differently and pushed her hips forward and tightened her ass when Maura's fingers pulled free but only to then land and rub heavily atop her clit.

"Ahh, Maur!" was about as articulate as Jane could get as the doctor's fingers hit the proverbial gas pedal and began a rather fevered pattern and pace over Jane's clit. Jane knew she should protest as she felt the strong suction on her neck, right at her pulse point, knew she should protest because it was absolutely going to leave a mark, one that would absolutely be visible to everyone at work tomorrow, but when it came right down to it, she couldn't bring herself to say anything more than "God, yes, yes there, right there, fuck, yes, Maura!" as she felt the doctor's fingers dip into her body a second time for more moisture before once again resuming their quick and relentless task, driving Jane's body higher and higher and inexorably and inevitably higher.

As for Maura, she was being driven just as inexorably higher, albeit in a slightly different way. Because holy shit this was a heady experience. All that power, all that prowess, all those sinewy muscles with their unlikely but undeniable strength, those limbs and core that packed such a punch, everything that had been on such crystal clear display in class – on display in a way Maura had maybe understood on some level but had never really seen quite so clearly – well, right now, right now it was all Maura's.

Yes, this body – this amazing body below her – one that had been so honed and trained and was so fucking capable and So. Fucking. Sexy – was _quite literally_ at Maura's fingertips.

For in this moment, it was Maura, not Jane who possessed and controlled that strength and that power, those muscles, this body. It was Maura who could make it jump, who could make it contract, who could make it squirm, who could make it sweat, who could make it lash out in either anger or protectiveness or love or lust.

It was Maura and Maura alone in this moment who could make it beg or give it relief.

Yes, definitely a heady experience.

And with that thought Maura's body moved even faster against Jane's, head buried in Jane's shoulder, hand buried in Jane's pants, rocking to an ancient rhythm, oblivious to everything except the smell and taste and sounds of this woman in her bed. "God I love your body," Maura whispered before nipping at Jane's neck again, "God I love you," she whispered again before resuming the suction of her lips and redoubling the effort of her fingers.

And it didn't take long, of course it didn't take long before Jane succumbed to the power of Maura's fingers and Maura's words, pleasure slamming into her and lifting her hips off the bed and tearing a cry from her mouth, Maura, yes, fuck, yes yes yes yes.

Both of them were breathing hard by the time it was over. What the encounter had lacked in length it had more than made up for in intensity.

Jane was aware first of Maura's hand running through her hair, then of the light kiss Maura placed on one of her closed eyelids.

She managed to crack that eyelid open and look up at her lover, who was biting her lip but still smiling back down at her.

Jane chuckled deep in her throat and found the strength to lift a hand up, slipping it behind Maura's neck and pulling the lighter haired woman down for a less fevered but no less emotion-filled kiss than the ones they had shared earlier. When she let Maura back up, she looked into the doctor's eyes and spoke. "So…" Jane drew out the word a bit, "You, uh, enjoyed kickboxing class tonight?" Jane was not really successful in keeping a straight face as she asked the question that had an obvious answer.

Maura smiled one of those most adorable half-embarrassed half-not-at-all-embarrassed smiles of hers and replied, "Maybe a little bit."

Jane raised an eyebrow knowingly, "You're breaking out in hives, Dr. Isles," she teased.

Maura's mouth broke into a wider grin, "Okay, maybe I enjoyed it more than a little bit."

"Mhm," Jane hummed back. After a moment of smiling at each other Jane sobered slightly before asking, believing she knew the answer but wanting to be sure, "So… when you refused to look at me in the car, it wasn't because you were mad at me for anything then?"

This time Maura's smile was pretty much full-on-embarrassed as she averted her eyes, "No," she responded, "I, um," she paused and cleared her throat then returned her eyes to Jane's, "I didn't look at you because I was afraid that if I did I'd do to you in the car what I just did to you here."

Jane laughed and pulled the doctor down for a kiss, knowing no better way to respond, knowing she wanted to ask what exactly about the class had gotten Maura's engine going so much, but also knowing that discussion could and would wait.

And she was right. For while the kiss was lighthearted and tender at first, it quickly grew to be much more and much deeper, both of their hands quickly tangling in the other's hair, both of their bodies quickly responding to the other.

When they pulled back, breathing elevated, lips swollen anew, Jane's arousal jumping again, Maura's having never really ebbed, they looked into each other's eyes. Jane reached up to cup the side of Maura's face in her hand. "I love you, too, you know," the detective whispered a response to Maura's early statement.

Maura swallowed hard and nodded.

No further words were needed.

Just another smile. Another kiss. The shedding of the rest of their clothes.

And a big bill from the dry cleaners for that duvet.


End file.
